


Madness this way lies

by Clown_queen_of_crime



Category: DCEU, Harley Quinn - Fandom, Suicide Squad - Fandom, The Joker - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clown_queen_of_crime/pseuds/Clown_queen_of_crime
Summary: Beatrice Monroe was once of the most well respected special ops soldiers of her time- that was until she wound up losing her mind and ending up in Arkham Asylum. Whilst locked up, she meets total wildcard Harley Quinn and forms a twisted friendship. Eventually, the two find themselves being recruited for The Suicide Squad, and shit goes down. Envious of the relationship between Harley and her Puddin, B desperately wanted somebody to fall madly in love with, but the are the war torn streets of midway city the best place for search for such a thing?





	1. Prologue

Prologue

"It took some work but I finally have them" the woman said, leaning over the table towards two the men who sat opposite her. The three of them were the only ones in the restaurant, the place had been cleared to insure complete security for the discussion they were having.  
Rain battered against the Windows, the harsh Gotham weather a stark contrast to the warm glow of the restaurant where they dined.  
"The worst of the worse" the woman continued, producing a thick booklet with the word 'confidential' stamped clearly in bold red ink across the front. She slid it slowly across the table, placing it between the two men with a slight smirk.  
Unsure of what to expect, the man to her left reached for the booklet and flipped through the pages, his eyes widening comically with what he saw, before he passed it on to his partner, who adopted a similar expression.  
After a moments silence, the man to the left spoke.  
"Where?"  
The woman raised one eyebrow, glancing at the red 'confidential' stamp, as if to say, are you deluded enough to think I'd tell you?  
"Let's just say I put them in a hole, and threw away the hole".  
The man nodded, and a pregnant silence filled the air between them. 

The woman smirked at them both, leaning back in her chair, daring one of them to come forward with the question they so obviously wanted to ask.  
"Why did you bring us here" the man on the right finally questioned cocking an eyebrow  
" I'm gathering you're not the type to have summoned us simply gloat that you managed to catch these people and we didn't "  
he paused again, gauging her reaction. When she remained silent, he continued.  
"So why? What do you need us for?"

For the first time since the three had arrived earlier in the evening, the woman smiled, before leaning in towards the two men.  
"I want to assemble a task force of some very bad people who I think can do some good"

The two men reacted as she expected, combinations of shock, fear and disbelief crossed their features as they glanced quickly at one and other.  
"Are these plans for your task force X project ?" One muttered, grabbing the booklet once again.  
The woman simply nodded, her smile growing darker.  
"Amanda we all know that task force X will never be approved, it was declined back in '84 and" one of the men began to rebuke, but she cut him off.

"But now we need it, more than ever. Look at batman, superman. We're lucky they share our morals" she paused for dramatic effect "but what if the next superman doesn't- what's to stop him tearing off the roof of the White House and grabbing the president, who would be able to intervene?" 

The room fell silent as the men considered her words  
"The next war will be fought with these meta humans" the woman remarked darkly "theirs or ours"

"But they're bad guys" one of the men rebuked once again thumbing through the file  
"Exactly" she paused, slightly amused at the confusion that swept the men's faces at her comment "we have built in deniability, anything goes wrong, we throw them under the bus"  
Silence filled the air for a moment before one spoke up.  
"What makes you think you can control them?" 

The woman paused for a moment, before leaning as far across the table as she could, staring into the mans eyes with a cold steely glare  
"Because getting people to act against their own self interest is what I do for a living".  
She leant back, before nonchalantly taking a bite of the expensive steak in front of her. 

" I want you both to back this project" she glowered at the two "you're both powerful men with links in the United States weaponary departments and state protection programmes, and I'm certain that with your support, task force X will be approved" she smirked "but if you don't want to help, I'm safe in the knowledge that I'll easily find somebody that will- this is your once chance gentlemen. In or out"

One of the men flipped through the booklet, reading the names he saw aloud  
"Dead shot, killer croc, Slipknot, Captain Boomerang, The Enchantress,Katana, The twisted sisters: Harley Quinn and The Blitz" he muttered with a slight sarcastic tone  
"Some of these are meta humans- they have..." he paused for a second, searching for the word "...Abilities"

The woman nodded, staring at the booklet before sighing under her breath "you wouldn't believe some of the things I've see my friend "  
He set the booklet down, leaving it open on the table, exposing the section labelled 'The twisted sisters'  
"Each are equally dangerous, come with equally disturbing backstories, and equally useful abilities" she remarked, her tone louder, sounding almost close to something like pride.

"I'll give you a moment to browse through the file and decide between you if you want in, or if you want to get out of my sight now and stop wasting my time"  
Taken aback at her brash statement the men began to quietly mutter between themselves, but she already knew the outcome. These were rich power hungry government highups- there was no chance they would pass up the glory that would come from being involved with this project should it succeed. 

As predicted, after a few minuets of conversation, one of the men reached across the table, intending to shake her hand  
"You have our support, and the support of our departments " she nodded, ignoring his hand, which he sheepishly lowered to the table. She had what she wanted, her project was activated.

"Wise choice, glad to have you on board gentlemen"

The men clearly relaxed as a less tense atmosphere settled on the table, the three of them focusing once again on the expensive meals in front of them.  
"So" one of the men began, obviously now interested in the project " tell me more about them" his pudgy finger stabbed the page the booklet lay open on.  
The woman glanced at him questioningly  
"About the twisted sisters specifically, or all of them"  
He shrugged  
"All of them, but we may as well start with these two since we're on the topic"

The woman nodded, grabbing the booklet and laying it beside her plate. She knew each file by heart, but kept it with her for reference. 

"The twisted sisters is a name first used by the tabloids to describe two female criminals- Harley Quinn, formerly Dr Harleen Quinzel, and The Blitz, formerly Privet Beatrice Monroe. The two of them are equally as insane as they are intelligent, and combined, they are a force of nature" she drew the words force of nature out, putting emphasis on each individual word 

"Harley Quinn was formerly a doctor up at Arkham asylum- she was one of Gotham universities biggest and brightest stars. Fresh out of medical school, she got a placement at Arkham and was put on no less than the clown prince of crime himself's case. Poor girl thought she was curing the joker, when in reality, she was falling in love. She spiralled into insanity, following in her lovers footsteps. He broke her mind, and she broke him out. Together they escaped Arkham and essentially terrorised the city. They became the King and queen of Gotham, and God help anyone who disrespected the queen. It was a mad love"  
she paused, smirking at the two men hanging on every word she said, both thoroughly engrossed in the story she was unfolding

"She and The Joker were captured multiple times and subsequently they escaped multiple times, but at present, Harley Quinn is in a secure location, locked far far away from her mad man of a Prince Charming. The batman managed to bring her in, but the Joker escaped his grasp, meaning he, he could be anywhere" she said with a slight shudder, thinking about the joker prowling free through Gotham 

" The other twisted sister, known simply as The Blitz, was formerly a special ops soldier working in bomb control on covert missions. She has a freakishly high IQ- higher than some of the United States top scientists, and there is nobody else to exist that can handle a bomb like that girl. The woman could make an explosive powerful enough to rip a mans arm off with a tube of toothpaste, a few drops of whiskey and a paper clip.  
She was well respected within her career- a respect she deserved. back then, she was strong, highly trained in various combat skill, incredibly talented with a bomb and extremely intelligent. Her career in the military was cut short when her brother, also a covert troop was killed by what most suspect was either a faulty weapon of some sorts, or by friendly fire. Nobody knows exactly what happened that killed Richard Monroe, but his death snapped something within Beatrice and she went insane. It was like her moral compass shattered. She killed something close to 80 people in less than two hours , using a combination of bombs and combat skill. She slit the throat of her Sargent major and other innocents before she was detained and flown back to Gotham sedated and bound in a straight jacket. She was declared clinically insane and destined to spend her life in Arkham- in reality, she spent less than a day there before she figured a way out.  
Tabloids likened the attacks she staged on Gotham following her escape to the London blitz attacks of WW2, which is seemingly where she picked up her name- disregarding her previous identity completely. She was captured and sent to Arkham multiple times, and escaped multiple times, her combination of insane and intelligent proved difficult to contain at the Asylum. It was around four months ago, within her third stint at Arkham that her and Quinn met, formed a twisted best friendship and together staged one of the most brutal, bloody and completely brilliantly planned breakouts in history- earning them the title of 'The Twisted Sisters' in the tabloids'. The two worked together multiple times outside Arkham, and we have reason to believe The Blitz was invited into the Joker and Harley Quinn's inner circle. They both have strong reputations within the criminal underworld and are individually regarded as Gotham's Queens of crime "

One of the men grabbed the booklet, and studied the pictures of the two women  
"That's a whole lot of crazy in a whole lot of hot" he muttered under his breath.  
The woman glared venomously at him, snatching the booklet back and continuing to speak  
"The two of them are currently being held at a secure location, both unaware of the others presence in the..." she searched for the right word for a moment "... Detainment centre"  
If they knew they were in close proximity of one and other things would without a doubt get dangerous. As I said previously those two combined are a force of nature".....


	2. Bye bye baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Harley and The Joker and things go boom...

Chapter one - Four months earlier 

Harley 

"So, good people of Gotham" J snarled into the video camera I held, his voice a low, almost growl" you've got around about 15 minuets to make your choice, or I'm afraid it's boom boom bye bye baby" 

I swerved around his flailing arms, pointing the camera towards our sobbing hostages, before hitting the stop button with a grin.   
I looked across at Mr J, his face a picture of thrill and glee, mirroring my own. Pleased with how successfully the nights events had gone, I skipped over to him, planting a kiss on his throat in celebration, which he nuzzled into.   
"Well puddin" I giggled, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck "I think we best get out of here, it's going to get a little warm for my taste"

He cackled, swinging me into his arms and spinning us around. I relished in our closeness, despite knowing that part of it was for our hostages benefit more than mine- our relationship was terrifying to normal people, and to Mr J, nothing was funnier than a terrified hostage.   
"Harley Darling, the night is young" he purred into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine as he set me down on the ground "we've got places to be and people to see baby" he grabbed my hand, twirling me, before blowing a kiss to the hostages. 

"I'd love to stay and chat, but my dearest here" he laughed, pulling me tightly to his chest, almost like he would hold a human shield "she thinks it's time to dash- and you all know what it's like, your girl says jump you ask how high"   
My heart raced hearing him talk about me like that, even though it was all part of his performance to the hostages. I was surprised that the damn thing didn't beat itself straight out of my chest when he turned me around and pulled me into a deep kiss, biting hard and tugging at my bottom lip,his arms wrapped around me with bruising force as I knotted my fingers into his slicked back hair.   
It was obvious that our violent show of affection just added another element of terror to the room, which only made J kiss me deeper- I wasn't complaining. Scaring hostages was fun, kissing him was my favourite thing, doing both at the same time was bliss.

The time finally came for us to make our exit, after J got the call through to tell him the people of Gotham had voted to save a room full of government high ups and officers over the random innocents we had tied up here- which J and I found hysterical.   
Like always, we had left it almost to the last second, and together we raced out of the building, not before J had given a last dramatic  
"BYE BYE" to the hostages   
My heart thudded as we sprinted, knowing the place would be up in smoke any second.   
Adrenalin rushed through my veins as we made our way out of the building and to the car, him slightly ahead of me thanks to his longer legs.   
He reached it first, sliding into the drivers side with grace. Once behind the wheel, he revved the engine, ready to speed off, and for a moment, I panicked, worried that he was so wrapped up in the excitement of it all that he would forget to wait for me, meaning I would be stuck here and would too succumb to the imminent explosion.  
I ran harder, diving into the passenger side with a screech, just as his foot floored the gas pedal.

No sooner had we torn away from the warehouse, than behind us an almighty bang rippled through the air, the force of the explosion lifting the back wheels of the car, causing the two of us to screech and whoop in delight. With a giggle, I half clambered out of the window to admire our handiwork. The usually black Gotham night sky was blazing orange and red, and various sizes of rubble and shrapnel decorated the street behind us. By the looks of it, we were only barely out of the explosions range when it went boom.

"We did it puddin" I squealed, bouncing back into my seat like an excited child. 

"Oh we did sweetness, we did" J purred back, taking one hand off the wheel and resting it on my firmly on my thigh, his fingers slightly digging into my skin  
I sighed with content, my heart thudding still from the adrenalin as we raced through the streets of Gotham, our purple Lamborghini cutting in and out of traffic with ease.   
As I tried to calm myself down,I took a moment to admire the man beside me. In the fading light, his features looked sharper than ever, like you could cut glass on them. His hair was slightly tousled, and a few green strands fell onto his forehead, framing his tattoo of the word 'damaged', a constant reminder of the mess that damn bman left my Puddin in.   
My eyes traveled down to his torso. Despite the lashing rain and unforgiving bitter Gotham winds, he wore nothing on his top half but his purple crocodile skin coat and a few gold chains around his neck.   
I'd attempted to force him into a dress shirt before we left the hideout, hoping to give him at least another layer against the cold, but he was having none of it.   
Our heists were like performances to him, and every detail had to be perfect, right down to the costume, which meant no shirt, just jacket. Sitting now in the warmth of the car though, I wasn't complaining.   
The lack of shirt meant I could see straight through to his chiselled, toned chest. I admired the dark tattoos littered across him, some of my own art scattered here and there, mingled with the ones done by his usual guy.   
The ink looked strikingly dark against the pale white of his skin, almost like they were jumping towards me in the fading light. 

My eyes traced down his muscular arm, admiring every dip and raise and scar that shaped it, thinking of all the times those strong arms had held me tightly against him. At last I came to his hand, long and slender, grasping almost too tightly onto my thigh- it would most probably leave faint finger print bruises.   
I didn't mind, I loved each and every little bruise scratch tattoo or scar J left on me, each one a little reminder that I was his, and he was mine. I sometimes jokingly likened the marks we left on one and other to our version of wedding rings; things like the tattoo on my left hip of the letter J in a love heart, or the word 'Puddin' in cursive scrawl inked on the back of his neck, or most recently, the purple bite mark that currently lay where my neck met my shoulder. He'd given me that last night as we were falling asleep, my back pressed up his chest, simply because he felt like it. I didn't care- it didn't hurt, and it tied us to each other; besides i'd given J plenty of bite and scratch marks myself over the past year and a half we'd been together.  
I continued to study the hand that clasped tightly to my thigh admiring the intricate smile that was inked there. That crooked smile was the tattoo he most often used as a way of intimidation, creeping people out by holding it over his own mouth.  
Ironically, considering most people were scared shitless of it, that smile on his right hand was one of my favourite inks on his body.   
I had drawn out the design myself you see, right back in when I was a doctor at Arkahm. I doodled it during one of our many sessions in my notes and he saw it. He promised me that one day he would have it tattooed, and he made good on his word. I let him keep hold of the rough sketch, then the first night after we broke out of the hell hole, he took me to a tattoo parlour and I watched as the artist etched my design into his skin. 

"You could just take a picture, they last longer baby" J purred, startling me out of my trance like state, the memory of the tattoo parlour fading as I snapped back to reality..  
I felt my face flush deep red with embarrassment that he'd caught me staring without a hint of subtlety.

"Sorry Puddin, you know I just love every single bit of you" I stammered weakly in apology, looking down at my hands.  
He chuckled at my flustered state, giving my thigh a quick squeeze as we turned out into the highway. He took a moment to stare over at me with a hint of a smile, his eyes filled with what appeared to be adoration.  
" Harley darling you know I -" he began but was cut off by an almighty crashing sound as something heavy hit the roof, causing him to swerve hard to the left in a mad moment of panic, sending us spinning directly into the oncoming flow of traffic.   
A huge truck that was heading straight for us catapulted along the road, it's break lights illuminated red, trying desperately not to hit us, but I knew its efforts were futile. We were too close. I braced myself for the impact, my heart in my mouth, as the huge vehicle skidded, no signs of slowing as it sped closer and closer.

Suddenly everything was in slow motion. My knife had somehow come unstuck from my bra strap and now floated through the air in front of my eyes, like there was no gravity at all.   
My hair was splayed out around me like a blue pink and blonde halo, curling this way and that as the car spun.   
I could feel myself screeching, desperately reaching forward to grab onto J, releasing a feral scream that tore at my throat like sandpaper.   
Helplessly, I watched him being flung forward, my efforts to hold onto him futile as he crashed straight through the windscreen like it was as thin as rice paper.   
The only thing that prevented me being thrown straight out after him was the seatbelt I had pulled around myself as I'd jumped into the car-a habit drummed into me as a child that I couldn't seem to shake. I was thankful for it now as the belt now cut painfully into my neck, pinning me to my seat as gravity attempted to throw me from the car as it violently spun.

Then, all at once everything was still and silent, like nothing had happened at all.  
A hazy fuzz started to creep into my vision as tears fell freely from my eyes. I couldn't stop the audible sobs that tore through my chest as I screeched and screamed for Mr J.

I could feel a sharp gash down the side of my cheek and a dull thudding pain in the back of my head. The car had landed on its roof so I was pinned upside down, held in place by my seatbelt.   
Everything hurt as I craned my neck in an attempt to peer from the smashed windows for any sign of J, despite the screams of protests from my damaged muscles.   
Even in my woozy state, I knew who was responsible for our wreck. That damn Bat. When I got out of this mess I was going stamp that rodent into the ground, then use that stupid cape of his to wipe my feet. I didn't understand why he just couldn't leave me and my Puddin alone. 

A mixture of blood and tears dribbled down my face and into my hair as I frantically attempted to get out of the car, but the more I fought, the more blood I lost, the weaker I got and the harder it became to keep my eyes focused and conscious.  
Soon the dizziness became so bad I couldn't even move my arms, so I resigned myself to hang there, openly sobbing as I slipped in and out of coherence.   
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a dark voice began to whisper to me, drawing out screams and splutters and sobs even more violent than before.

You're going to die Harley, this is it, You're going to die here alone. J is certainly dead out there, mangled and broken, a bloody mess on the road. You have nobody on this earth that loves you because he's dead and now you're going to bleed out in this car wreck all alone. Say goodbye to life Dr Quinzel.

As the black fuzz started to obscure my vision entirely, I began to mutter frantic last-ditch prayers to myself between sobs, pleading desperately for my own life and for Mr J's life. The last words I got out before slipping into unconsciousness were

"Please let J live"

And then I was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the first proper chapter- I know that literally nobody is reading my crappy story but it makes me happy to post it. I have so many ideas for this daft little story and I'm really excited by it, so I'm going to keep posting!!!


	3. The flying rodant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet B, old Batsy makes an appearance and things go boom...again.

Chapter 2- that same night on the other side of Gotham.

B

This was by far, my most ingenious plan to date. It was brilliant, thrilling, original, and all in the holiday spirit. What more could anyone ask for?

Everything was perfect, each detail ready and in place. The police wouldn't be bothering me, because as far as I knew, the King and Queen of Gotham's underworld had them pretty preoccupied across town over in the narrows- Their help wasn't planned, in fact I doubted they even knew I was holding an operation tonight, but their distraction was beneficial to me. I'd never met either of them in person, but I made a mental note to thank them if I ever got the chance. Because of them, the minor inconvenience of GCPD was eliminated, and since the joker was involved, I suspected the flying rodent was probably busy there too, meaning now all that was left for me to do was sit back and wait for the right moment to hit the trigger, then enjoy the show. 

I watched as dressed up little rich boy after rich boy after rich boy piled into Gotham city hall, each clutching onto their own clueless blonde bimbo eye candy.  
They were going in to flitter away their 'inherited from granddaddy riches' on more funding for Gotham City's defence unit. Money that was going to be wasted on a lost cause. It was obvious they were clueless of how much of a waste their spending was, so, In the spirit of the christmas, I decided to do a good dead, and took it upon myself to teach them a life lesson. Tonight's lesson was all about how pointless it was to fund that good for nothing shit hole of a unit and prove to them that no matter how much pointless cash they fed into their defences, danger would never fail to find its way to them.   
In preparation for tonight's educational session, I'd spent the last month wiring every fairy light, in every damn Christmas decoration hung around that useless building- even the ones on the mighty extortionately priced tree in the entrance hall, with enough explosives each to blow a hole through a tank.   
I'd also written them a little note and hidden it under the Christmas tree. Once the thing was blown sky high, my note would be revealed and they could read all about their mistakes. The note read

Dear fair folk of Gotham City,  
Tonight I wanted to teach you all a lesson. You see, this little event each of you got so beautifully dolled up for is all about defending our dear Gotham City, and supposed to make you feel wondeful about how your money is protecting the good people of Gotham (which is secretly all just a desperate plea for you to mindlessly donate more cash) In spirit of the holidays, I decided I would do a good deed, and being the friendly person I am, chose to help you out by showing you that actually your money isn't doing shit. If it was, Gotham city hall would have been defended from something like tonight's events, and wouldn't be a bomb sight currently. Invest your money elsewhere boys. Take up a hobby. I heard snowboarding is glorious this time of year.  
With love, your local Christmas fairy  
The Blitz

I was pretty proud of my elegance and eloquence in the letter, and damn excited to see how the media would react to yet another message from me. I adored the tabloids. They couldn't seem to stop writing about my escapades. It was from them that I had chosen my name. The Blitz. Pretty fitting considering my love for bombs and explosives. I only really wrote the letters for two reasons, the first being so that no scrawny underworld nobody could claim my masterpieces as their own, and the second being to see the frenzy it send the tabloids into. Their reactions gave me almost as much thrill as triggering the bombs themselves. Stress on the almost.

From my spot on the roof of the building opposite, I could see my handwork first hand, as well as through the surveillance cameras I had planted in key areas all around the building. The bugs meant I could watch the event and choose the most dramatic moment for the place to go boom.  
Initially I had thought getting the whole thing set up was going to be extremely difficult, but it was actually the opposite. It turned out I didn't even need this steal a pass to get inside.   
I discovered that the second a person puts on a workers uniform, they become absolutely invisible, even in the building charged with managing the whole of Gotham city's security and safety- supposedly the safest building in the county. Dressed in electricians overalls, with my hair tucked up into a cap, free of my signature outfit, I was unrecognisable. Without looking at all like The Blitz, I was free to waltz into the place under the bullshit alias of 'Christmas lights maintainer' and was able wire up the building to demolish, right in front of everybody. Hidden in plain sight.  
As I said before, this plan was perfection. 

After a half hour of sitting out in the biting Gotham wind and rain, I was getting to my wits end. The right moment was yet to present itself for the place to go boom and I was getting bored. I also knew that before long, whatever the Joker was doing across town would come to an end and the flying rodent would be free to chase me the second I set the place ablaze. Applause filled my ears through the headphones I wore and I looked back to the screen. The bugs in the main conference room were streaming live to my surveillance equipment, so I could see and hear every word spoken. The reason for the applause was Bill Gregson the city's defence secretory standing up to begin his speech. This ought to be fun. Most of what he said was dreary and boring, kissing the asses of the little rich boys who's donations he was desperate for. I was beginning to give up hope for finding the perfect moment, and reached for the trigger, intending just to set the thing off now and get out of there, and then I heard it. The perfect moment.   
"As I said gentlemen, we want our unit to end the year with a bang"  
I giggled with delight and sprung to my feet, smashing my fist into the trigger. I ran, hard and didn't look back as behind me the sky lit up orange. The explosion was powerful, far more powerful than I had anticipated. So much so that it knocked me off my feet as I scaled the rooftops, sending me flying off the side of the building I was sprinting across. Screeching, I cascaded down the side of the skyscraper, skidding rapidly along windows. I scrabbled at the slick glass as I fell, desperately trying to latch onto something to stop me dropping to my inevitable death as the ground drew nearer and nearer. There was nothing.   
Well B at least you went out with a bang  
In a second, hysteria became calm as I realised helplessness of my situation and stopped fighting. My fingers stopped scrabbling at the glass windows and I felt a single tear slip down my cheek as my body went limp and I simply let myself fall, the wind whipping through my hair, framing a halo around my face in dark curls like some kind of fallen angel. How ironic.  
I'll see you soon brother  
In the moment I gave up on life and accepted death, something unexpected happened. A large heavy shape slammed into my side with rib cracking force, sending us both smashing through a glass window into some kind of office.  
We skidded violently across the carpeted floor, crashing through desks and office chairs, my skin burning at the friction against the carpeted floor. When we finally lost momentum, I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't do anything. My arms were pinned above my head by whatever hulking shadow had saved my life and yanked me out of the air. I could feel shards of glass digging into my brutally friction burned arms, and my head thudded painfully. My eyes swam, blurring in and out of focus. Definitely a concussion.   
Breathe. You're alive. Breathe.  
I tried to focus on whatever it was that held me down with such chest crushing force.   
The room was silent except for my coughing and spluttering as I attempted to control my erratic breathing and heart rate after my little unplanned free fall. Damn explosives were too powerful- that was a first for me. As I calmed down and the adrenalin rush faded, my eyes began to come back into focus and I realised what it was that held me down. I let out a weak giggle.  
"We gotta stop meeting like this flying rodent"  
He huffed in response, and climbed off me, his steel grip remaining strong on my left arm. With each laboured breath I forced into my damaged lungs, I could smell engine oil, burning and the metallic stench of blood on him, and momentarily, I wondered where he had just been. Obviously he had been up to his usual escapades, catching bad guys, but I wondered who it was tonight. Judging by the scratch marks on his suit and grazing on his chin, he must have been in a bit of a scuffle before he got round to saving and capturing me simultaneously.   
"You just killed nearly 40 people" he growled, yanking me up painfully by the arm and slamming my back against the office wall "how can you be smiling"  
The sudden intensity of his yelling seemed to draw me out of the shock caused by my fall, and I cackled at his straight narrow goodness, drawing another frustrated growl from him.   
"Oh bats, both you and I know all of those men weren't the angels they claimed to be"   
He gave no response to my back talk, just shoved me harder against the wall  
"This is Gotham darling, everyone here is rotten to the core, except maybe you oh dark night in rubber armour" I winked, leaning forward and kissing him violently, biting down hard on his bottom lip, giggling when the metallic taste of his blood filled my mouth. He pulled away instantly and spat on the ground with disgust. Charming.   
"It's not rubber " he muttered under his breath, shoving me hard down to the floor before grabbing hold of my ponytail and dragging me along the ground behind him. I let out another mocking cackle, hiding my pained wince as he scraped my fresh wounds across the carpet. It hurt like a bitch, but there was not a chance in hell I'd show him that. Honestly I gave him credit for not having a sexist attitude, the fact that I was a girl, barley over 5"7 didn't stop him from violently slamming me into office furniture as he dragged me towards the stairwell. And they say chivalry is dead.   
"You could've just called if you wanted to go on a date honey"   
He ignored my taunting, lifting me up by my left arm and throwing me over his back when we reached the stairs. What a sweetheart, he truly despised me, but not so much that he wanted to smash my skull down a concrete stairwell. Cute.   
As we made our way down the stairs, I didn't attempt to fight, my struggle could result in the two of us cascading down the steps, which wasn't in my best interest. He would probably survive a tumble down fifteen flights with all that armour, where as I would most probably end up lifeless at the bottom with a crushed skull. I was also hoping to lull him into a false sense of security, and possibly get him to loosen his grip a little whilst I planned my escape route. No such luck.   
As we reached the exit of the building, headed straight for his flying rodentmobile, his steely grip was still as vicelike on my bruised arm as it had been when he had first grabbed me out of the air, 100ft above where we stood. I sighed frustrated. I wasn't exactly in any position to overpower him- my head still swam from the concussion he'd given me, and my arms were weak- bruised, burned from the carpet and sliced up with glass shards. It wasn't ideal, but I'd be damned if I went down without a fight.   
Without warning, I threw my body into the air, using the momentum to slam my knee right into his windpipe, catching him by surprise. He loosened his grip the tiniest amount, caught off guard by the sudden force crushing his throat. It wasn't much but it was enough for me to wrench myself free, and jam my elbow straight into his jaw. It was moments like this that I appreciated my military training- this wasn't the first time it had gotten me out of a sticky situation. Free from the bats grasp, I took off running, darting out of sight as fast as I could.   
Not fast enough. Usually I could out run batman with ease, but usually I wasn't concussed with a few broken ribs. I was just about to vault over the barbed wire fence at the end of an alley when I was jerked backwards through the air and tossed into a pile of trash bags between two dumpsters. Before I could even think of running, he was on top of me, his forearm wedged under my chin, pressing on my windpipe.   
"Now bats" I squeaked, my voice strained due to the pressure on my throat "this is no way to treat a lady- at least take me to dinner before you climb all over me"  
"Would you shut up" he huffed in response, raising his fist, before slamming it down hard against my temple.  
All I could do was stare lazily over his shoulder at the blue flashing lights appearing at the end of the ally way, fighting the dizziness that took over my head. In that moment I hated the bat more than I'd hated anyone because I knew exactly where I would be when I woke up- right back in good old Arkham. Hell on earth. I glared at him for a moment before I felt my eyes roll backwards and I was gone- out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's B! She's a bit of a firecracker but I love her. The way she messes with bman just makes me giggle- she's a hoot to write.


End file.
